of ninteenth century prostitutes and bikini waxes
by sheisthesun
Summary: "Time to show these hunks of USDA approved all-american choice beef what Tasmania's made of." Fat Amy is in the house and Barden University does not know what's going to hit them. Pitch Perfect through the eyes of Fat Amy.


"Welcome to Barden University!"

Fat Amy jumps in surprise, her head of blonde painfully bumping against the open taxi trunk above her, and profusely swears before catching a glimpse of the devil that caught her off-guard.

The said devil is tall, blonde, with blue eyes and chubby cheeks and for the first moment in her life, she wonders if she had ever seen teeth so bright—like, not even the _oh-wow-what-kind-of-tooth-paste-do-you-use-you-look-fantastic _shade of white, but the _goddamn-close-those-lips-you-don't-wanna-be-spreading-those-pearly-whites-around-here-you'll-blind-a-bitch _kind of white.

But _holy marbled cheesecake, _her teeth were _white._

"Good gods of all Tasmania, you almost scared the cholesterol off of my arteries!"

Fat Amy forces a laugh to cover the grimace that's now beginning to make its way to her face, a hand rubbing the back of her head (because that trunk hurt like a crocodile bite to her ass _which, _she notes with a self-satisfied nod of her head, she's had many times before but her ass is still in the best shape despite that).

Her laugh falters and she desperately, _desperately_, tries not to speak through bared teeth. "Someone should put a bell on you, you little..._Barbie Doll._"

The other blonde giggles, high-pitched and so sugary sweet (not the candy kind of sweet but the kind of sweet that gets legs amputated) that Amy can practically _taste _insulin on the tip of her tongue.

"If you need any help of need directions to where your dorm is, please, don't hesitate to ask me!"

Cue the radiant dimpled smile that practically burns the retinas off of her eyes.

_Goddamn, those were some bright as hell teeth._

"Oooooooookaaaaaay," Fat Amy says slowly, grasping her bags by the handle and pulling them out of the taxi without much trouble. (Oh and she takes pride in that—she's one of the best dingo and crocodile wrestlers in her little hometown without bad breath!)

She's about to walk away (oh she'll gladly do so because it feels like she's staring straight into the bright and endless depths of the almighty sun) when Pearly Whites—as the freshman _affectionately _dubs her—stealthily moves in front of her to block her way. Before she can make a snarky comment about how she needs to stop watching those damn Japanese ninja cartoons, Pearly Whites dangles a shiny new whistle in front of her face.

Well, at least her teeth's been blocked out.

"Wait! Before you go, here's your official BU rape whistle!"

_Is she serious?_

Fat Amy stifles a snort, but then covers up her small cackle with a coughing fit when she realizes that _yes, _Pearly Whites is _actually _giving her a rape whistle. Staring at the metal object that's dangling in her line of sight, she eyes it with a raised eyebrow, a hand rubbing her chin thoughtfully.

Pearly Whites continues with her voice as cheery as Christmas trees and ugly Christmas sweaters and eggnog tampered with alcohol, "But please, don't blow it unless it's actually happening!"

The freshman contemplates for a few moments, her mind coming up with a few ideas (none of which mean using the whistle at the appropriate time but it'll get her a few good laughs and a slap on her knee), but then she mentally shakes her head, deciding against it although it _did _sound really tempting.

_Better not.__  
_

"Yeah, no," Fat Amy starts, shaking her head. This, she notes, seems to startle the other girl. The said girl's white-as-hell smile falters a bit before she cocks her head to the side in pure confusion. The Australian notes that her blue eyes betray the look of confusion; they're twitching, and practically screaming out, _'What did you just say to me, you stupid bitch? Did you just _deny _my rape whistle?' _The freshman brushes it off with a wave of her hand.

"I've wrestled my share of crocodiles and dingoes back in Tasmania, so I've sure as hell got a lot of meat under all this fat to wrestle against a few horny horndogs."

Fat Amy knows she's pretty much irresistible (that's what all her boyfriends tell her, but she doesn't really care about them that much since they just suffocate her with a ton of text messages and phone calls and stupid ass voice mails and sometimes even letters with an invitation to some mediocre three and a half star restaurant and _shit she just really needs to get the hell away from them_), but _really_.

She knows how to defend herself with a little _Tasmanian Razzle Dazzle—_throw a punch there, give a little kick here, maybe a purple nurple or wet willy and everything's peachy keen. Then _maybe_ she'll have a little sneak peek of his wallet (she's just curious as to whether he's an organ donor because if he is one, then she'll need keep those inner jewels safe for some sick kid that needs it), just maybe.

_Yes, I am pretty much the coolest bitch I know!_

And with that, Fat Amy slaps her belly and is extremely satisfied with the look on Pearly Whites's perfectly symmetrical face when the resounding 'THUMP' of her slap reaches her ears. She leaves with her bags in tow, a bounce in her steps as she struts towards the crowded campus of Barden University with a huge shit-eating grin plastered on her face.

_These walking slices of american pie don't know what they're in for. Fat Amy is up in this biznitch!_

* * *

_Okay so I really loved Pitch Perfect and this was on my mind for a while! I just really wanted to write a story on Fat Amy 'cause she's totally bad ass (oh I really loved everyone in Pitch Perfect, the characters along with the people that played them are awesome-sauce) and there's not enough stories on Fat Amy so yeah. Basically it's Pitch Perfect in Fat Amy's point of view? It may or may not stray from canon._

_I'm not making much sense so please ignore that bleh_

I do not own Pitch Perfect—I simply make fanfiction for it.


End file.
